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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26665636">He Deserved To Be</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyfacebreaker/pseuds/prettyfacebreaker'>prettyfacebreaker</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Begging, Begging to be hurt, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Crying, Dirty Talk, Dubcon Kissing, Fantasizing, Light BDSM, M/M, Masochism, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pain, Sadism, Self-Hatred, Submission, Whipping, Whump, captor-bonding, fucky thoughts about pain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:03:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,317</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26665636</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyfacebreaker/pseuds/prettyfacebreaker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Soon, the man got into a punishing rhythm of blow after blow, leaving his cries in the wake of each sharp movement.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Male Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>He Deserved To Be</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So I wanted to make this one special since I've been so caught up with school that it's been hard to keep up with Between the Cracks. Fortunately, I have this to give! Enjoy and heed the tags.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He got off. He got <em>off</em> and they let him.</p><p>All it had taken was a little tongue dance and the right judge to like it for that weaselling trust-fund shit to have escaped justice, driving off in the wrecked roadster’s shiny replacement, leaving a joke of an attorney in the dust. Hayko had watched him leave the court with a veneer of a self-satisfied smirk and had barely been able to hold off from snapping his neck and spitting on the papers. </p><p>He tossed his briefcase on the first surface he saw and let his crumpled jacket slip off him and onto the ground despite its thorough iron-press that morning. The weight should have disappeared as soon as it hit the floor but the lead was still in him. He reeked of <em>failure</em>. </p><p>He had seen enough cracks and leeks in this work and over the years, it usually passed under his nose as another slip to fix but there was no fix to the dull agony he felt now. It was all so crushingly wrong and it needed so badly to be fixed but he wanted to forget even worse. Was it too much to ask?</p><p>For a second, it would be pure bliss to just forget all the disappointment weighing on him and feel in control of the pain he had to endure, and in a way that he could allow. Even enjoy. </p><p>And he knew how to forget but, God, it was the <em>worst possible way</em>. </p><p>But he could put his pride aside and, again, ask Nick to hurt him. He had done it only once before and the humiliation the man put him through to plead for it was almost worse than the itch itself but in the end, he got it. And got it <em>well</em>. Would he go a second time? </p><p>Closing the door with a soft click, he glided to the living room where Nick was unmistakably in another battle with the cheap wood lining the walls and the whir of the drill circled the room so mercilessly that, at first, he didn’t notice him. The place shook with vibrations and occasionally, hammering as the man brought it down cleanly every time on every nail.</p><p>Hayko stood and watched him work away with a kind of awe that he was so bothered by the apartment’s condition that it warranted tools, and he awkwardly rubbed the doorframe after a minute had passed all the same. He was already neglected enough by the fucking courts. He didn’t need to be ignored by <em>him</em> of all people and especially when Nick wasn’t one to ignore him even when he specifically asked.</p><p>There was no use second-guessing himself. If anything needed to be hit and fixed, he wanted it to be him right now. </p><p>Eventually just as he hoped, Nick caught the stare and looked up, the sight of dust and wood chips on his shirt a foreign sight but one that Hayko found annoyingly attractive. “Hey there.”</p><p>“Hey.” </p><p>A curt laugh. “<em>Hey</em>. Your place is shit,” he muttered, focussing back on the work when Hayko only shifted his weight in response. “Why you insist on staying here instead of moving with me is beyond me but I guess this city rubbish has grown on you.”</p><p>“Come on, it’s not that bad since you’re just used to…well…the opposite of everything here. Seriously, it’s not as bad as you think. Plus, getting to work every day would be a pain.”</p><p>“’Course it would, sweetheart,” he grumbled and Hayko shuddered, wishing the words had been closer to his ear. Or whispered, low and rumbling into the back of his neck.</p><p>He cleared his throat and slid onto the couch just beside where Nick grimaced, scanned the unevenness and the man thought he would never peel his eyes off that stupid fucking wall to watch him for a moment and see his want, brimming under soft, dark eyes. That was hard to get when he had little experience initiating anything or having much of a choice for <em>when</em> he got hurt.</p><p>Nick was clever though, always had been. His eyes flicked up between the splintered wood and Hayko’s thinly veiled attempts to get his attention, first done by smoothly unbuttoning his collar and then by leaning his head against his palm and staring at him.</p><p>Nick snorted and straightened up. “Is there something you’d like to <em>say</em>?”</p><p>Hayko looked away in response, as if on instinct when the man smiled like that. He knew what he was doing. He always knew so why feign ignorance now? </p><p>“I’m looking back in about three seconds-”  </p><p>“Nick,” he blurted out with urgency, “you know when you said that if I want something I need to- uh- tell you better so you’d understand the first time?” That was what he had said, curt enough that it cut straight into the core and he had never forgotten the suggestion.</p><p>He cocked an eyebrow and glanced down from his undone buttons back to the nervous face, himself with a strange grin. “Clear as day. What about it?” </p><p>“I- I was wondering if you’d,” <em>just say it, Jesus Christ</em>, “I want you to-…um…hurt me. Like you did last time but this time, I want you to use your whip.” </p><p>That had come out more graceful that it had sounded in his head. It was out into the open so why was his heart pounding so hard that he could practically feel it knocking at his ribs? He wasn’t even sure if he should feel relieved or terrified that Nick’s grin fell into a calmer, sharper smile that showed no teeth but rode a pleasantly <em>violent</em> look.</p><p>He swallowed dry, suddenly realizing how brittle his throat was. “Please.” </p><p>“Bad day at work?” Nick asked, teased more like as he got up to stretch. “It’s always when you’re stressed that you need me, isn’t it?” </p><p>Hayko wanted to jump to his own defence but his stammer was interrupted by the man’s light, nearly taunting laughter and he bit the inside of his cheek. “That’s not- I’m not-” </p><p>“You always need me when you’re hurting so I can hurt you more. What kind of thought process is that?” Leaning over the couch, Nick suddenly had him back on his elbows and his arms trapping him on either side, his breath fanning so close over his face but still unfairly far.</p><p>Hayko’s eyes were wide and lost as the man loomed over him and as he closed their distance with a kiss, he made a noise of surprise before Nick suffocated it. He loathed the mind games but he could hardly think <em>at all</em> right now and everything coursing through his head was jumbled want, the faintest taste of liquor on the man's lips, and the thought of the whip crashing down on him, cleansing him of failure’s stench.</p><p>Nick broke the kiss smoothly, thinking for a moment then speaking. “Get in my room before I change my mind.”  </p><p>Hayko certainly didn’t need to be told twice and was already off to <em>my room</em> which was really <em>his</em> room but he wasn’t planning on contesting that and losing the opportunity needed so badly. He was in the room then on his knees without another command, prying his shirt off carelessly and throwing it on a pillow where he should have been but didn’t feel he deserved to be. </p><p>“Hands against the wall, love,” Nick ordered and there was no room to defy the fullness of that low, self-assured authority. </p><p>As blood rushed through his ears, the man was sliding open the top left drawer with a mechanical calmness he could feel without the sight, picking which tool. Nick was self-assured, always and he knew what to do and when he hit, he hit <em>hard</em>, making it all terrifyingly perfect.</p><p>“I should cut you up proper with this one, darling. You look so good with welts. Then again…I’m assuming you need to walk tomorrow, don’t you?”</p><p>“I don’t <em>care</em>,” he breathed out. “Please just-…anything. I don’t care. I- I want it to hurt and cut if it can. Make it hurt, please.” </p><p>Nick paused to look at him suspiciously then chuckled and didn’t even walk, rather <em>meandered</em> closer, stretching out the seconds until Hayko felt like he could scream before the first crack came ripping through his shoulders and he clamoured at the wall for support. It rang and reverberated and stung all so devastatingly.</p><p>Before he could recover from the initial shock, Nick was bringing another one onto him and his body jerked all at once as if with the surge of electricity. Another <em>crack</em> and blood surfaced onto each welt, dribbling down, framing his shoulder blades like that was the painting’s element keeping it from perfection.</p><p>The next one blanked his mind and he almost forgot where he was from the sheer force of the blow but the wall was still there as support when he was back to himself. Unfortunately, his weapon was leather and merciless, one that would leave purpling, tortuous marks for weeks and Nick would just bathe in them. <em>Exult</em> in his work. </p><p>“Fuck me, that’s a sight. I’m willing to beat you bloody if you keep this up.”</p><p>“Please,” Hayko gasped. “More, I-I can take it. <em>More</em>.” </p><p>“I know you can.” His voice was lined with a grin before the next blow that clapped against him, pressing into the windows when Hayko made a desperate noise and reeled pliantly, slamming into the wall.</p><p>He was left in a flurry of soft gasps of pain and white, pulsating dots covering his vision as he finally made sense of the hot agony in his back, the sickening slickness of blood and Nick’s smarmy compliments dancing in the background that he for once wished were louder. Soon, the man got into a punishing rhythm of blow after blow, leaving his cries in the wake of each sharp movement. </p><p>Hayko felt it grounding him, sinking his knees deeper into who he was and had to be to survive. With each buzz of pain, relief washed over him as well that he could so easily slip back into the role of <em>just need to survive</em> because then, nothing besides that animalistic need weighed on his chest.</p><p>“<em>M-more</em>,” he sobbed out in fear that the man was easing off or, God forbid, pitying him. </p><p>Nick had made him like this, sculpted him to perfection, into just what he needed to be. He was his, totally and completely. Every crack of the whip and his responding strangled cries were evidence of that. For once, Hayko didn’t mind that he belonged to him because Nick could make him forget so easily when the time came when remembering was fruitless and painful.</p><p>“<em>More?</em> You just about look like you’re going to collapse,” he laughed breathlessly after what felt like fifteen or twenty. “What’s gotten into you, sweetheart?” </p><p>Hayko couldn’t formulate a response with his eyes squeezed shut and fingers gripping desperately at the wall as the pain’s depth made rounds in him, synapses firing away. The cleansing agony almost placated his other others completely. And he had asked for this.</p><p>“Jus’… keep goin’-…Nick, please, I want more ‘f it.” He gasped upon another strike, breaking off into a ragged sob, still clinging to the spinning wall like it was his last refuge. “H-hurt me.” To his utter surprise, it came out entirely natural, unlike any other time those words had to tumble off his tongue.</p><p>Another blow, another welt, another sob. Was he clean yet? Was he absolved? </p><p>Another blow. Nick was holding nothing back and he wanted nothing held back.</p><p>“You’re just gorgeous, as always. Of all the days you could have asked, it had to be one that had me in a bad mood. But you know I can get along with you.” </p><p>Hayko didn’t look like he was aware that anything had been said and a few blows more and Nick dropped the whip, letting it thump to the floor before he slithered behind the gasping man. He could have kept going if everything about the situation wasn’t so enigmatic. </p><p>“I can take more,” he slurred, unsure if the voice was his anymore. “P-…please.” As arms circled his waist, the sensation was just criminal. But, reluctantly, he submit, he let himself be held in that moment of resounding solace and sobbed quietly, suddenly missing the euphoric light-headedness that the pain brought him minutes before.</p><p>Nick sighed contentedly into his bare shoulder. “You’re a strange one. Did that make you feel better or do you want me to really hurt you?” The question was biting. Dark. And the offer itself was tempting but at that point, it would be out of his control – the thing he ultimately needed.  </p><p>Hayko swallowed dry between gasps and bobbed his head in a nod, a barely conscious response but the man didn’t let go, chuckling wryly into the skin as he traced his work with a careful fingernail. Occasionally, he pressed into a welt and hummed at the noise that came with it and it was such a shame that neither could see each other’s faces, although Hayko never really needed to see when the man's presence spoke clearly.</p><p>“I don’t think you want that.” </p><p>With that, Hayko pushed himself off the wall – his refuge – and collapsed into another with confidence that it was just as safe. He let sweet, noxious pain bring him back, cleanse him, empty him of his innermost thoughts and correct him in the moments he lay bleeding and gasping in the man’s arms. Once his pain, now protection. </p><p>“Can you jus’… stay here for a bit?” </p><p>“Mhm." Nick played with his hair, running fingers through the mess of damp curls, watching his face furrowed in concentration. "You know I will.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Come to my <a href="https://pretty-face-breaker.tumblr.com/post/630347075441328128/he-deserved-to-be">tumblr!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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